Stars of the morning, so gloriously bright,
Filled with celestial resplendence and light;
These that, where night never followeth day,
Raise the Trishagion ever and aye:
These are Thy counsellors: these dost Thou own,
GOD of Sabaoth! the nearest Thy throne;
These are Thy ministers; these dost Thou send,
Help of the helpless ones! man to defend.
These keep the guard, amidst Salem’s dear bowers:
Thrones, Principalities, Virtues, and Powers:
Where with the Living Ones, mystical Four,
Cherubin, Seraphin, bow and adore.
“Who like the LORD?”—thunders Michael, the Chief:
Raphael, “the Cure of GOD,” comforteth grief:
And, as at Nazareth, prophet of peace,
Gabriel, “the Light of GOD,” bringeth release.
Then, when the earth was first poised in mid-space,—
Then, when the planets first sped on their race,—
Then, when were ended the six days’ employ,—
Then all the sons of GOD shouted for joy.
Still let them succour us; still let them fight,
LORD of angelic hosts, battling for right!
Till, where their anthems they ceaselessly pour,
We with the Angels may bow and adore!
|First Line:||Stars of the Morning|
|Title:||Stars of the Morning|
|Author:||Joseph of the Studium|
|Translator:||John Mason Neale (1862)|